Always and Forever
by Dark Raven Wrote
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were destined for each other. In every other past life they have met under the very same difficult circumstances they are faced with now. They have always over come them. Full summary and warnings inside, please R&R.
1. Jacob and Artemis

Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were destined for each other. In every other past life they have met under the very same difficult circumstances they are faced with now. They have always over come them. In their last life, Harry got killed, as a result, Draco jumped off a cliff. Now, a few centuries and seventeen years later, they're back. The only problem is, they can't remember they're supposed to love each other. Oh well, they'll have to find out the old fashioned way.

I do not receive any profit from this except the opinions of other people. I own nothing but the plot and possibly my own characters (if I add any)

Warnings will be given as they come. R&R please

Warnings: Death, implied sexual references, blood, malexmale.

* * *

Chapter 1 – Jacob and Artemis

Jacob Jackson looked down at his wand. His black hair fell into his emerald eyes as he did so. He puffed out a long sigh, this was going to be a long night. Artemis was not sneaking out of the castle to see him tonight. Usually when it was his turn to watch, his lover would appear from the dark shadows of his home and come to him. Then he did not need to worry as to whether they would be attacked on that night, Artemis would tell him.

He knew he could always rely on Artemis, those silvery eyes that glowed in the moonlight would never lie to him. He had been worried at their last meeting to find his skin an even more sickly, ashen colour than the last time they came face to face. He also spotted a few single, blonde hairs upon his head out of place, which was most unlike his lover, whom had been brought up to be perfect. He had also noticed the new cuts and bruises whilst undressing the nobleman but had decided that he would let them slide, although this worried him more than anything. His father must be beating him again, or worse.

He knew it was wrong not to confront Artemis about them but after that first sweet kiss he had been completely smothered with the passion his lover had brought with him. Lust had taken over and he had not realised he should talk about the new injuries until the sun was rising and Artemis was placing a last chaste kiss on his lips before running of towards his home. He had thought about calling out to the Prince but had hastily quietened himself when his heard the voices of his comrades walking towards the lookout point.

So now, only half an hour before the attack was due to commence, he sat on a large rock at the top of the very same hill, staring down at his wand. He had never quite understood why Artemis had so much interest in him. At first, he thought it was a trap, a way for the other side to know what they were up to but then, when Artemis had finally revealed his sad story, he had known that it was not a trap, just pure and simple love.

He still could not understand how he had even caught the Prince's eye, he was but a normal foot soldier while the Prince was, well, a Prince. He remembered his first sighting of the Prince. It had been on his first raid to the castle about a year ago. God knows how he was still alive, but still, that had been the day he had first seen him. He had been standing at the foot of the stairs, wand shooting all kinds of curses and eyes blazing. If Jacob had not been busy duelling one of the guards, a low level problem, he would have been transfixed as he stared at the man.

He had not known then that that was the Prince. He had thought him a lord of some kind. His fine clothing was formfitting with the silver borders of the castle upon the green material. His blonde hair was not cut short like most men who entered battle, so he had assumed that the man did not confront the enemy himself often.

Once Jacob had finished his own enemy, leaving him stunned and frozen on the floor unable to move for a good few weeks, he began to make his way to the stairs. The point of the raid had not been to end the war, only to try and steal some sort of 'bargaining chip'. This so called item turned out to be a person, the Prince no less. From the map the leader had shown him, Jacob knew that the Prince's chambers were on the third floor, one more floor up, hence the need to use the stairs.

The Prince happened to stun his opponent, looking just as hesitant to kill as Jacob himself, and turn towards him just as he was skirting around behind him. His eyes opened slightly wider in what looked like shock, before he raised his wand at Jacob. Jacob, with his quick reflexes, managed to do the same. They both noticed at this time that the hallway was almost deserted.

Jacob remembered sneering something about how the Prince was only a short distance away and no doubt already captured. The other man had started to retort back when the double doors behind him, at the side of the stairs, were flung open and the rebellion's general whirled in, capturing the man and shouting something along the lines of 'Fool, don't you know who this is? Go tell the captains to retreat!' to Jacob before twirling back to the door, muffling the now identified Prince's scream with his hand, and banging them closed behind him with a short shout of a spell.

After that, Jacob had been made to watch the Prince, soon known as Artemis, for no other reason than the fact that he refused to even mutter a single word to anyone else.

Two months after his capture, the castle attacked, 'saving' the Prince from the 'savages' and taking him back to his castle. But by then, it was too late. Artemis and Jacob had already come to love each other and they had already shared their stories. After that, Artemis checked almost ever night who was on watch duty. Finding often to be Jacob, he would frequently appear from the bushes and sit silently beside him. Many nights such as this happened. Artemis was always able to say if an attack would happen that night and so they were left alone. They worried they would be found out. At first, Artemis would only stay a few hours in the early morning while the moon was at its peak. Then, they became bolder, after they dared to have their first union in the dead of night, he began to stay until sunrise, although they still dared not stay undressed for too long or make more noise than it was possible to smother by their lips.

Now, however, more than ten months after this, a year after their meeting, the rebellion was finally going to end the war. They were not sneaking into the castle for a raid this time. This visit was to be, for many of them, their last. This was to be the final battle. Many people knew they would die. Jacob was not among them. He refused to die. Not while his Artemis still remained trapped in that wretched castle.

His musings had taken him more than twenty-five minutes into the night. He heard footsteps calmly marching up the hill behind him. He looked behind him at his captain. A large willow tree stood to their backs, growling at the new arrival and sweeping its tentacles out, not quite able to reach the older man.

"We're leaving now, Jacob. May the magic in your heart and the peace of our new, overhanging rein guide you." The grey haired male nodded once, before indicating down the hill for him to follow and turning back.

As the old man walked away, Jacob cast one last look at the castle. The great room where he had fought so often was filled with people readying themselves for the battle. The many turrets and towers that edged it were quiet and darkened. The stones both armies stood upon were patiently waiting for the bloodshed, ready to soak up the fresh hatred to store away for the time when history needed it. The lake that surrounded them almost all the way did not stir. Although Jacob could not see it, as many tree clouded his view off to the right and left, he should have been able to hear it lapping against the sand a long way below.

With one more fleeting glance at the castle, he turned and followed his captain down from the watch point.

* * *

Artemis ducked under one of the many curses that were hurled at him, sending his own back whilst willing more power into the shield that surrounded him. He had kept his eyes open for any sign of Jacob but had found none. God forbid he was already…

'_No, idiot, focus on the task at hand. He isn't dead, he promised he'd come for me after this was all over. All I have to do is keep my half of he bargain and stay…' _Dodge, curse. _'…alive.'_

The king had often flaunted the fact that his son was a brilliant duellist, not to be beaten by ammeters. If he could see his son now, being distracted by such thoughts he would definitely not have been best pleased. As it was, he and his first advisor were, at that moment, on the other side of the Great Hall, duelling the rebellion's general.

Artemis flung another curse at a passing soldier who started to raise his wand at him. He had decided long ago that he would only defend himself when it came to these wars and never kill. Unlike his father and the rest of the kingdom, he did not agree with this stupid war. His father should never have stolen the castle. It was supposed to be a flipping school, not for the bloody king. Artemis shook his head, running into the entrance hall, beginning yet another long search of his love.

The hall was littered with dead, unconscious or stunned people. Two sets of duellists were shooting spells and curses at each other from either side of the great, wooden doors, which were left wide open.

Artemis started to run up the wide, sweeping staircase to the first floor. On reaching the top he froze. Straight in front of his, stood his Uncle, a cruel and unforgiving man, with his wand pointed at Jacob.

Artemis looked at his lover, fear was plastered all over his face, and his eyes were wide with shock, staring down at the other man's hand. Artemis had felt a little hope until the moment when he was that Jacob was looking down at his own wand. His Uncle had already disarmed him. Artemis swore, stepping forward and calling out to his Uncle. The man flicked his gaze over and sneered, pointing the brown, wooden wand that belonged to Jacob at him while his own silver coated one stayed trained to Jacob.

"Stay, Nephew. Your lover shall die no matter what you do." It was not so much the order that stopped Artemis, but more that fact that his Uncle knew. How long? Why had he not told anyone?

He saw it all as if in slow motion. His Uncle turned back to face the black haired man (God how he loved that untameable hair) whilst a sadistic smile curved up his lips (but God how he hated that smile) and he opened his mouth to speak.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _His Uncle smiled as he killed him.

Artemis was too enrages and scared to even think about what he was doing. As his Uncle turned to speak to him, the sneer back upon his lips, Artemis raised his want and hissed the very same curse. His voice was so low and full of venom that he didn't think his Uncle even heard him say it. His eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw the bolt of green light flashing towards him. He barely had time to register before he was dead.

Artemis felt no remorse, although he knew he should. Instead of feeling such emotions he ran to the other lifeless body. He fell to his knees and encircled the smaller man in his arms, rocking him, as he let tears fall from his eyes, not even knowing he was doing so.

He stayed so until the rebellion found his five hours later. They had finally taken the castle and were collecting prisoners. All whom had lived in the castle were being placed under lock and key as traitors, imagine their surprise when they found the Prince, no less, crying and maddening, with one of their own soldiers in his arms on the cold, dead, stone floor of the first floor.

It did not take long for Artemis to escape. He asked for a single sheet of paper and a quill with a small bottle of ink. He let them supervise him while he wrote, although he never let them see what it was. He stopped showing any emotion and after his request the only words he ever spoke to anyone but the air were 'yes' and 'no'.

After writing hesitantly for two days without food or water, he finally put down the quill and stood, saying, as one last favour, that he would like to see the body of his now not so secret lover. After a lot of persuasion they had agreed.

The bodies of the rebellion's dead were lined up under thee canopy of trees at one of the cliff edges that ran around half the castle. Artemis knelt beside Jacob one last time, placing a pale hand upon his cheek. He drew it away quickly, it was too cold and lifeless. He wanted his last memory of his love to be warm and filled with laugher and passion.

The memory that came to mind was the last time he had visited Jacob while he was on watch. They had not done anything on that night, only snuggled together, enjoying each other's warmth.

He smiled slightly as he stood up, a sad smile that reached deeper into his eyes than anyone could see from the strained glimmer of tears that appeared in his now slate grey eyes. They had lost their sparkle like the rest of him and were now not the royal colour silver, but a peasant grey.

Artemis looked once at the party of rebellions that accompanied him before turning and stepping over the cliff top.


	2. Displeasure

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, malexmale

Chapter 2 - Displeasure

Harry Potter sat, in the freezing cold, beside his two best friends. Hermione Granger had insisted they start their revision sessions early. Ronald Weasley had been complaining for the last three hours at least but seemed to be getting nowhere with his idea of dissuading Hermione against the plan.

"Ron, just be quiet and look back at your potions book."

"But, Hermione, we've got ages until the exams." He looked over at his best friend with a pleading glint in his bright eyes. Harry had resigned himself to the timetable Hermione had drawn him weeks ago. He had been fed up with her insistent nagging and knew it would do him good in the long run, even if he hated it. He sighed and looked over at the pair.

"Six months."

" When I give you a look like that, it means bloody help me, not give me a date."

"Well, I for one, am glad that Harry has finally seen sense. Neither of you are going to get any NEWTs unless you start revising now." Hermione looked over at Harry, whose nose was buried in a thick volume about aging potions. She gave an approving nod and pretended not to hear the sarcastic murmur of 'you have so much faith in us' that drifted out from behind the book.

"But Hermione, its six months away!"

"Stop whining, Ronald. I don't care what you do then, just don't come complaining to me when Harry gets more NEWTs that you." She huffed and turned back to her own book.

Ron blew heavily from his nose before heaving his potions textbook onto his lap, over exaggerating the strain, and beginning to read it.

Meanwhile, Harry stared out at the lake. Even though it was nearly Christmas and the holidays were looming, he could not bring himself to dread them like he usually would. This year he was staying at Hogwarts, as usual, but this year was different. This year he had a plan as to how he would keep himself amused. Stuff the potions essays, plural, Snape could go to hell, he was going to have fun if it killed him.

The words on the page he was meant to be revising had quickly become a blur. He may have given in to his schedule of revision but that didn't mean he was going to revise all the time. What Hermione didn't know would not hurt her, or him for that matter.

The lake was quiet in Winter, it always had been. No creatures from its depths broke the calm surface of the water. No birds settled down upon the stillness to rest, resulting in no ripples spreading through the flat plain of liquid. The pebbles, which started a little way away from where they sat, were all perfectly round, some of them frosted with a sprinkle of frozen dew.

Harry liked the peace that came with Hogwarts. He liked his life here, that is when he was not running away from murderous villains, escaping from teachers and avoiding the general bumps and bruises (and braking and regrowing bones. And being killed and brought back to life, falling off a broom from several thousand feet, almost drowning and burned with probably many more to come) that came with the job of saving the world. Now that was depressing.

Harry shook these thoughts from his head and looked back out at the lake. He could hear Ron and Hermione vaguely in the background, arguing again, but he was used to it by now. If only Ron would pluck up the courage to ask the woman out, then he would be happier.

They had not been surprised when Harry had confessed his true sexuality to them the year before. They had said they had seen it coming and wondered when he would find out. They had asked and after some persuasion he replied that he had been shocked into acceptance when, in the summer holidays, he had walked into the living room one afternoon to see the his Aunt and Uncle watching a film. He had walked in when a minor sexual scene had been playing and had realised he was gay when he found himself more turned on by the male actors chest than the females'.

"What do you say, Harry?" He was brought back to the present by the sound of his name.

"Sorry?"

"Should we go up to the common room now?" Harry nodded and began to pack his things away. His two friends had learnt to be very patient with him over the years. He would often find his mind wondering off into its own little world of memory. He thought of many things; funny times with his friends, his rescues from the Dursley's, which were a lot funnier now he was looking back on them, and even back to his childhood memories, trying to pin down any happy times. He always avoided the subject of his battles with Voldemort, even in the 'safety' of his own mind, and it was not often he thought about other people from school, his thought usually stuck with the Weasleys and Hermione, sometimes straying to his roommates.

Harry mentally slapped his forehead as he realised he was doing it again. He had not even noticed that he was walking between his friends back up towards the castle. They were still arguing, throwing growling responses at each other across his back. He felt he should stop them before it got out of hand, but did not fancy being snapped at when Ron had already decided he was apparently siding with Hermione for the day.

As the three friends entered the entrance hall, Harry looked over at the side door next to the stairs, which led to the dungeons, with dislike. He had yet another detention with Snape at three O'clock in the afternoon. Speaking of time;

"Hermione, what time is it?"

"Five past three, why?"

"Shit. I'll see you guys later, I've got a detention with Snape."

"Oh Harry, another one, what was it for this time?"

"I didn't know the answer to a question a long the lines of, 'If I mixed powdered toads eyes with an infusion of wormwood and aconite at a temperature of seventy-nine degrees, I would get an anti-wrinkle potion. If I mixed the same ingredients at eighty-one degrees, what would it be then?' Apparently, two degrees can make a huge difference."

He tried, only partially with success, to split his hearing as his friends both commented at the same time.

"You know you do a bloody good impression of Snape, Harry."

"Of course it makes a difference. At eighty one it would give you an acidic substance used to melt metal."

Both boys turned to look at her, eyes widened slightly.

"Hermione, how do you know this stuff?"

"That would be because someone pays attention in my class." All three seventh years jumped and let out an array of sounds. "You are late Mr. Potter. That will be five points from Gryffindor, I think. Now off to the dungeons with you Potter." Harry scowled, it was just like Snape to pop up out of the ground right at the wrong moment.

He whispered a quick 'I'll see you in the common room' before practically being frog marched towards the door.

"And before I forget, Potter, that will be another ten points for that awful and inaccurate impersonation, if it had have been better you might only have lost five."

Harry resisted the urge to retort back to the teacher but settled for muttering a 'yes, sir.' As it turned out, this was a good idea, the disappointed look on Snape's face was priceless.

Once in Snape's dungeon, Harry turned back to the professor expectantly.

"Those cauldrons, you will be cleaning them with Mr. Malfoy who has kindly volunteered to help me."

Harry growled low in his throat. A whole hour with Malfoy was going to be hell. Why the hell would Malfoy want to help clean out cauldrons? No doubt without magic? He looked back at Snape, the question on his lips.

"No." He had not even had time to voice the words. He sighed for the second time that day and walked to a cupboard in the corner of the room. He grabbed two brushes and a bucket. He then went back to where the mountain of cauldrons he was to clean with his rival were stacked and, after casting a clean water charm on the bucket, began to work with one of the brushes, leaving the other in the bucket for when Malfoy arrived.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sauntered into the room at half past three precisely. He prided himself on the accuracy of his timing. He was never late, unless fashionably so, and was never early. He had a talent for predicting the times he would need to leave early as irritable hold-ups would make him pause.

Severus had already told him he would be cleaning cauldrons with the detention students but he did not mind, he was not in detention, he could taunt them with his allowance of magic.

He vaguely wondered who would be in detention. He knew no other Slytherins were so this was bound to be a dreadfully boring experience. He could handle the Hufflepuffs and tolerate the Ravenclaws but he was not sure he would be able to keep calm if a saintly Gryffindor or two were to join him.

Therefore, you can imagine, when he walked through the door to the allocated dungeon he would be in, he was not best pleased to see one Harry Potter on his knees, bending over a cauldron, scrubbing away at it and occasionally dipping his brush into the water.

He stood staring at the Gryffindor who showed no signs of looking up any time soon or of noticing him. He felt a rush of air off to his right as the potions master swept past him.

"You know what to do. Please make sure they are all clean before you leave, Draco, and don't let Potter out of your sight." He nodded to his head of house and gave a curt nod as he left the room.

Draco looked back at the dark haired boy. If he had not known who the boy was, he probably would have thought the sight arousing. The boy's back was arched slightly as he curved over the brass bowl so he could see what he was doing. His hair was falling in his eyes and sweat was making his shirt stick to his back a little. Meanwhile, his robe lay on the floor next to him, in a bundle, as was his jumper. But what Draco noted above these other points was the other male's lower body.

Even though the school trousers were not appealing in any way, the way his back curved made the trousers ride up a tad, fitting to the boy's backside perfectly. On top of this, his legs were ever so slightly spread and his hips were swaying seductively from side to side, backward and forward as he scrubbed the cauldron below him.

Suddenly, Draco understood what he was thinking. He snapped his attention away and up to the ceiling.

'_Fuck! I was just eyeing up Potter!'_

* * *

R&R

To my reviewers:

To**Imarriedmalfoy: **Your wish is granted, although I don't think it's as good, but there you go. Thanks, I'm glad I was able to stir some emotion.

To**iridescentcloud: **You will have to wait and see won't you. Your wish also, is granted. The next day isn't bad eh?

To**cherishmoiraparamour: **Thank you for the wonderful comment. I hope to be a novelist upon reaching adulthood and it is nice to receive a confidence boosting comment.

Thank you to all the story alerts and favourites as well. Please (continue to) comment.


	3. Detention

Chapter 3 – Detention

"Stop staring at my arse, Malfoy, it's distracting."

The feeling of someone staring at him was starting to make Harry feel nervous. He instinctively knew that the eyes that were staring at him were the shining silver of his rival. The chills that rattled down were so familiar that there was no need for him to turn around to know this.

He paused in his scrubbing to wait for any sign of movement behind him. It remained silent. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle as his patience began to wear thin. He felt the urge to shift and start to fidget under the stare. His tolerance snapped.

"I'm flattered, Malfoy, really, but I'm busy so piss off." He began his scrubbing again, almost worrying that the other boy was not answering back. He heard the Slytherin shifting towards him. Harry looked over at the bucket, waiting for a pale hand to reach out and grab the other brush.

"I don't know what you're waiting for, Potter. I'm allowed my wand." Harry groaned, he had completely forgotten and now, not only did he look like an idiot, but Malfoy was going to use magic to clean his cauldrons painstakingly slowly just to torture him. Little did Malfoy know, though, that Harry was perfectly used to manual labour and did not need a house elf to do everything for him.

The detention was not eventful for the most part. Both seventh years kept to the silence that had followed the 'greeting'. They found themselves relaxing into the quiet atmosphere. They did not let their guards down, however, the level of comfort in the room did become higher as they let their bodies and minds loosen up.

The pile of stinking pots was lowering at a rapid rate. During the last half an hour of Harry's detention, a time he estimated, he could see that his clean water charm was beginning to wear off. Although the charm was supposed to purify the water every time a soiled object was dipped in, it did not seem to be having much success at doing its job. However, Harry knew it was only a simple charm and not very strong, he had not expected it to last long, but wished it would last just a few more cleanings.

Unfortunately for Harry, the charm gave up its fight to cleanse a few minutes later. He let out a vicious growl, which made Malfoy look up at him. He had been sitting cross legged on the floor, casting a spell every so often at the pot he placed in front of him. Harry gave an uncharacteristic moan, he stood and picked up the bucket. To refill it he would have to walk all the way to the bathroom at the other end of the corridor and back again, and not just once either, every few minutes.

"Where do you think you're going, Potter?"

"Clean water, the charm ran out of steam."

"Are we forgetting that one person in this room still has his wand, Potter?"

"And how likely are you to use it if I asked for your help?" Harry did not need a mirror to know that he was sneering.

"Not very, but you could always beg."

"Never. Not to you."

"Whatever, Potter." Harry scowled and continued on his journey. Upon reaching the door, he did not stop to listen to what Malfoy was saying, all he heard was, "And I'll know if you use your…" He cut the older boy off with the sharp snap of the door shutting. He knew what he was going to say, no magic. For God's sake, why would he be traipsing all the way to the bathroom if he could just cast a fucking spell? Harry growled. Malfoy was such a prat.

* * *

Draco looked after the Gryffindor as he left the room. The loud bang of wood meeting wood forcefully resonated through the room. If he had not been prepared for it, he would have jumped. '_No, Draco, get a grip. Malfoys don't do the whole 'jump in fright' thing.'_

He looked back down at his cauldron. He shifted closer to it and cast yet another cleansing spell upon it. The damned, purple gloop was refusing to be removed. He was beginning to become frustrated. He had long since thought, pretty much as soon as he walked through the door, that it had been a bad idea to help out his head of house voluntarily. Why had Severus put him with a Gryffindor? And Potter no less.

The purple substance within the cauldron was not anything even resembling something Draco recognised. If it had had a different colour, almost any different colour, he could have named it. A different texture, sure he would have known. But the purple gloop was beyond his knowledge. Besides, it was probably a catastrophe made by Longbottom. No potion they were allowed to brew was purple, he knew, he had checked once he found out only poisonous potions were purple.

Draco clutched the end of his wand slightly tighter as he sent a particularly vicious cleaning spell into the pot. With a curse, he ducked back when the spell hit one patch of gunk and rebounded right back at him.

If he had not been worried Potter could walk in at any moment and see him, Draco probably would have been throwing a childish tantrum on the floor. As it was, his pride would allow no such thing so he made no sound as he began to mutter strings of different charms and spells, directing them into the cauldron and seething silently.

When Harry re-entered the potions classroom a few minutes later, he raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. Draco sat, cross-legged in one corner of the room, his back against the wall, a moody scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" Cold, silver eyes snapped up to him and Harry swore, with satisfaction, that Draco jumped ever so slightly.

"I'm taking a break."

"For God's sake, Malfoy, it's not like it's hard work for you."

"It is when that bloody menace of a cauldron refuses to be cleaned." One arm extended and a perfectly manicured finger pointed out towards the purple jelly encrusted cauldron.

"This one." Malfoy nodded his head, sneering and rolling his eyes. "You're such a fucking baby." With that said, Harry knelt down next to said cauldron, pulled his brush from the icy water and began to scrub at the concoction remains.

* * *

Harry could feel blisters forming on his hands, but he was determined to finish what he had started. The purple gloop was slowly, painstakingly slowly, coming away from the metal it seemed to be welded to. It was irritating his skin, making his hands feel like little bugs were crawling up the brush and onto them before sinking sharp, poison filled teeth into his skin.

Malfoy was still in his corner. His features were void of expression, including his eyes, which were as cold as the buckets of water Harry had to keep refilling.

Harry finally brought his hands from inside the pot for the last time, tipping the remainders of the cold water into the metal pot before splattering the liquid, and whatever it may now contain, down one of the drains at the side of the room.

True to his feelings, when Harry looked at his hands, they were covered in blisters and sores. A few were bleeding or wilting a clear, stinging liquid. He groaned and looked over at the three remaining pots. He glanced at Malfoy before setting to work again.

His hands were agony, sending jolts of pain that felt like charged of electricity shooting up his arms and straight to the nerves in his brain. He was half way through the first of the three when it suddenly swept from his hands and disappeared back into one of the cupboards, sparkling and clean. The other two followed suit soon after. Harry looked up.

"Don't think anything of it, Potter. I just think I should be getting you to the hospital wing before your hands explode. Quidditch season is up next week and it won't be much fun if I can't beat you."

"You beat me, since when has that happened?"

"Since my father bought me a specialist trainer last summer."

"Right so it's specialist trainer who probably didn't manage to teach you anything versus natural talent."

"I've always been better, Potter; don't kid yourself. I just needed someone to draw out my gift."

"But you still need me to have fun, right."

"Not really, it just happens you're the best seeker of the other three houses."

"I just think you want another reason to stare at my arse."

"I would do no such thing."

"Sure you wouldn't, Malfoy, just like you wouldn't hex Hermione if you could get off Scot-free."

"Shut up, Potter."

"Same to you, Malfoy. Oh, and you can drop me here, if I spend another moment in your company my head will explode."

"I can assure you there is no chance of that. It is more likely to implode due to lack of brain cells holding the shape. Blow yourself up soon, Potter."

Malfoy turned away from Harry and began the long descent back to the dungeons. With the banter carrying between the two, Harry had not realised he had already reached the fourth floor and was standing at the top of the sweeping staircase. He had not even remembered leaving the classroom. _'I really should pay more attention, what if a death eater had jumped out of nowhere.'_

Harry decided not to think about it, which turned out not to matter anyway as his thoughts were swiftly drawn back to his hands, which had begun to shoot spasms of shock up his arm again.

R&R please.

Dark Raven 4426


	4. Interlude 1 The First Summer Night

Interlude 1

The First Summer Night

Artemis looked up at the horizon. A passionate red washed over the sky, transforming it from an ocean to a blazing fire of emotion. Purple littered the opposite end of the world as it grew too far away from its light source. Stars were beginning to scatter upon the luminous background above. The heavens were cloudless and clear, stretching above him to new heights and showing him the ever beautiful cosmos.

Jasmine bloomed around them, letting of the sweet, floral smell that wafted around their bare bodies. Wishes whispered above them, floating from the patch of dandelion clocks that were located near the edge of the forest.

The castle was illuminated by the waning gibbous moon. The stones were lined by its reflected light, making them glow with its presence. The water, lapping at the shore, shone silver as the luminous glow hit it. It continued its flowing movements, even under the intense glare of the vanishing blue moon¹.

The grass below them was soft, welcoming them with a warmth that was rare in this world outside of each others arms. The air was still warm, seeming to stick to their sweaty skin where they lay. Not a single leaf ruffled or swayed or even attempted to disturb the perfection of the silence.

They had both quietened their breathing to small murmurs of breath and had stilled their movements to none that made any noise whatsoever.

Artemis felt a soft hand glide along his arms, he let out an involuntary sign and curved his neck to lay a gentle peck on a smooth cheek. He lay half across his lover, his legs strewn out at an angle off to the side. His blond hair was plastered to his head, streaking across his forehead. Crystals of the salty water dribbled along his skin and dripped onto the grass or the equally damp skin below him. It left a soft trail over his skin, a source of amusement to the man beneath him as he began to run his nimble fingertips over the lines.

"I'm glad you decided to come tonight." Jacob murmured from beneath him finishing his sentence with a contented sound that glided down Artemis' spine, making him shiver and curve his lips to a smile. He pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss before glancing at the castle…

…and freezing.

Lights were snapping on in all places then snuffed back out so that darkness prevailed. A few seconds later, the next room sparked to life before the same result was found.

"Jacob, I must leave. Now! The castle is awake. My father has found me missing!"

"Try come back tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll do my best. Have a good watch and get some sleep when your shift ends."

"I know, I know, now get going. I don't want to risk not seeing you again."

"I'll try sneak away tomorrow."

"You said, now go! The patrols are bound to have noticed something."

Artemis smiled as he jumped up. It took him less than five minutes to dress himself. The feeling of liquid seeping through the thin cotton of his shirt was not the nicest of sensations but was luckily hidden by the thicker woollen material of his robes. He set out for the castle.

* * *

Artemis stopped suddenly, hearing the floorboard behind him creak rapidly as fast steps rushed towards him.

"Where have you been, boy!?"

"Am I not permitted to take a wander in my own gardens now?"

"If you sneak off again, I shall not let it slip by unnoticed!"

Artemis' father turned and strode back down the dark hall, tucking his partially drawn wand back into the confines of his royal robes.

Artemis heaved a sigh. He had gotten away lightly, his father must be needed elsewhere. However, he still needed to slip past his uncle, who doubtlessly would know he had been found by now.

His room loomed closer in the darkened hallway and he begged that when he opened the oak door, the chamber would be free from other humanoid life.

The room was, thankfully, dark and empty. He glanced once more back into the black hall before shutting the door softly behind him, making barely a noise.

He then slumped down onto the grand bed that filled most of his living space. The red, silk sheets had never been soiled. The bounce of the mattress had never used for purposes other than the bounce before sleep.

Artemis sighed, again, and rolled over, snatching his pillow to fold it into his arms. The silk material felt nothing like Jacob's faded and rough clothing or the smooth, sweetness of his bare skin. It was just a pillow, a creation of man to bring comfort, although not the sort of comfort he was searching and wishing for with all his heart right now.

_'Do you also often dream of my presence by your side as you sleep? Am I alone in my wish to be with you always and forever? Is your love for me a mere figment of my weeping imagination? Is it only my eyes that shed tears when we are separate? How honest is the heart with emotion to even its owner? Will we be punished by an unknown God for these sins, for I am sure that is what they are? When will we finally be together, always and forever?'_

_'Forever is such a long time. Some people cope so well. How long is forever? Is there a definite always? I shall dream of you tonight, my love, and ponder upon my desire of forever. Always trying to hide what I wish for has become tiresome. Forever is the time I shall have to wait for my father to accept me. But I shall still love you, always and forever.'

* * *

_

R&R, please. Oh and I've updated my profile so go check it out, especially Heartfelt death 'cos it has a little info about my books, so yeah, anyway, gogogo…

To all the reviews from the last chapter and the one before:

Ch 2

**Priestess Catatonia**: Thank you for reading and I hope you like where it goes.

**Imarriedmalfoy**: don't worry, more past lives are coming, I've already written one but thought maybe going into more detail with this main one first which, by the way, and I'm glad that my first ever malexmale interaction worked out alright. Come back soon, you're great.

**Mistress of the flames**: Here is your update, hopefully not too late. Come back and review again please.

**Iridescentcloud**: Here is some more for you, thanks for the review, until next time.

**Heartfelt death:** Will do, I look forward to having you as my first 'fan', right? Lol. Anyway, thanks for the amazazing, I think it's a funky word even if it was only a typo.

**Cherishmoiraparamour**: thanks, glad to bring a little more laughter into the world. Review this one will you, and also I have a question, what does your name mean? Bibi

Ch 3

**Mistress of the flame**: thanks for coming back again, do repeat that, lol, glad you like it.

**Heartfelt death: **I know, poor harry-kins right, but he will get the better side soon, and on the up side, last chapter he did get Malfoy staring at his butt right, I mean who wouldn't want that…

**Iridescentcloud: **I'm glad you're liking it. I know this isn't exactly as now as you would have hoped but hey, here you are.

Right now that's done. Thanks for the patience. Remember to R&R. Bibi


	5. The Letter

Chapter 5

The Letter

"Don't you have anywhere better to be, Malfoy?"

"Not at all, Potter. Now move, you're blocking my light."

"Voices down, gentlemen. That'll be five points from Gryffindor and five from Slytherin, I think."

"Sorry, Madam Pince." Harry said through gritted teeth. The two boys glared at each other as the librarian sidled back between shelves of books to tell of more unsuspecting students.

They were about to start one of their famous flows of retorts and insults when a brush of bushy hair came between them.

"Harry, let's go, I've got the transfiguration book and Ron's waiting."

"Waiting? Why?" Harry momentarily forgot about his rival and looked at his friend with confusion written over his face.

"He's too much of a wimp to come over while Malfoy's near. Oh God, I can't believe I just said that! Don't tell him, will you?!" Harry shook his head and peered around her to glower at the Slytherin as he began to speak.

"He's just scared," the boy said nonchalantly whilst flicking a page of his book over. "And rightfully so…" he glanced up, sneering, "…I might bite."

Harry made to step around Hermione but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Honestly, you two." Hermione said letting go of her friends shoulder and turning so she could see them both. "You're always at each other's throats. Why can't you be more like Artemis and Jacob?" She clucked her tongue irritably.

"Who?" Came the joint reply from the boys.

"You**still** haven't read Hogwarts: A History yet, have you, Harry." Hermione gave him a withering look before raising an eyebrow at the Slytherin, whom shrugged. She then sighed and Harry sensed he would be learning some new piece of information he did not need very soon.

"Thousands of years ago, when the school was first built, it was used as just that; a school.

"Then, about three hundred years later, the castle was taken over by the wizard king of the time – don't look confused, Harry, they were replaced by ministers ages ago – and used as his palace. Obviously, the Founders wouldn't have been too pleased about this, had they been alive, and neither was the rest of the wizarding world.

"Artemis was the son of this king. In books it says he was never willing to participate but there was never any hard evidence.

"Anyway, some time later, the rebellion, which had been growing, came to the castle and began the first Great War of Hogwarts, mind you, there hasn't really been another one yet." She gave Harry a lingering look before carrying on with her narration.

"The rebellion found secret ways of getting into the castle undetected, loads of them. Sixty-five battles ensued inside.

"Jacob was a soldier of the rebellion. On the sixty-sixth battle, The Great Battle, and the last one, he lost his life to the King's brother. The Uncle was then killed by Artemis himself seconds later."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What happened to the war, Hermione?"

"Oh, the King was captured, along with the rest of the castle. That ended the war. The important part , for you two at least, although maybe not so strongly – even acquaintances will do – is that those two were on opposite sides of the war but still managed to get on more than well." Hermione could not help the giggles that escaped from her lips.

"So, if Jacob died and the castle was captured, what happened to Artemis, Granger? And where does all this information come from?"

"A lot of information comes from scribes, poets, aristocrats, soldiers and there was even a rumour that the King wrote something himself, although it was never published. The written record in Hogwarts: A History is Artemis' suicide letter to his father."

A silence followed her words. No eye contact was made and the only sound coming from 'Draco's Corner' was the shuffling of awkward feet. Then Hermione seemed to realise how uncomfortable the silence was because she suddenly piped up.

"Come on then, Harry. We've got reading to do. Oh, and both of you should read that letter," she half murmured, flicking her gaze down to Malfoy's essay and the quill in his hand, "You might learn something…interesting." She stared meaningfully into the blonde's eyes before grabbing Harry's sleeve and walking away, yanking him along behind her.

* * *

Harry sat in the common room, alone, in a comfortable armchair next to the fire. It blazed beside him, feeling hot enough to melt his face but he ignored it. 

Hogwarts: A History lay in his lap, open at the contents pages. '_How could one book have so many topics?_' He let out a frustrated moan. '_Could they not at least keep it on a bloody timeline instead of leaping all over the place with so-called connections_.'

Finally, after reading carefully through all seventeen pages of small printed contents, he found what he was looking for near the end. '_Sod's law!_'

He flipped to page nine-thousand-seven-hundred-and-fifty-one of the book and skim read the story, he doubted Hermione would have missed anything out. He stopped when he reached a long piece of writing in a different style. By the ink he could see that it was magically copied but the writing was old and the blotches in the background were from the original. This was how Artemis actually wrote.

The words were smooth and graceful, gliding over the page like an aristocrats words over the mind. Letters looped and swirled upward, arcing to precisely the tips of the under hanging letters before swooping down again, and yet it looked so natural. Neat, defined and delicate.

Harry began to read.

* * *

_To my dear Father,_

_ If there is indeed, as you have always told me, another life after this, I ashame to say I will never regret what I am about to do._

_I shall not say goodbye to you in person as I do not feel it appropriate to do so when one has never really said 'hello.' Therefore, I make this my farewell. _

_Now the kingdom and your rule have finally ended, I feel I should be free, but I shall never so in this life, while you are my sire._

_You must have noticed a change in me, a softness that never showed through to my surface before, even if you do not care to observe me._

_You must also know that it is I whom brought the end to dear Uncle's life that much closer. True, it is a disgrace to myself and the rest of the family that I should murder one of my own kin, but even if you had been there. Even if you had seen what I have seen and felt what I have felt, a cold-hearted beast such as yourself could never understand._

_My judgements of you may seem harsh but when one such as myself has undergone such scrutiny and felt such discrimination, it is difficult to keep one's mind clear and free of prejudice, for as I said, I never really knew you._

_On an educated guess, I would say you have never felt real love. Even Mother was just the cold make-believe of two families searching desperately for fame, fortune, power and an heir._

_I cannot imagine you are interested in any way as to why I am to do this. My reasons are my own. They are not, however, a sick revenge of a singularly twisted mind. I do not do this to harm you, the family or your fame. I do this for Jacob._

_Jacob, to you, would have been a passer-by, no more than a foot soldier worth nothing more than a flashing curse and a slow, painful death on your time. You would have enjoyed his pain had Uncle not been successful first. He was not even a life in your mind, just a pitiful excuse for a wizard, one more person to be destroyed, only a mesh of skin, bone and blood taking orders from your enemy. That was Jacob to you._

_To me, Jacob was so much more. He was a lifeline, a candle, my hope, flickering within my dark world, endlessly comforting my small and insignificant existence. He was the being that kept my own heart from slowing and my mind from giving in to your torment and games._

_He was my luck, my happiness, the one whom captured my heart with the ease and grace of the vela. To me, his image appeared as one of the ethereal creatures too, although I knew his not to be one._

_Often, I imagine him, just before I would appear before him, sitting atop the watching stone, staring at this very castle. His black hair would be bathed in the calm, trusting aura of the past full moon. His smile, which I often spent the whole night waiting for, curved slightly upon his perfect lips and I knew it to be for me and only me alone to see and appreciate._

_I have spent many days wishing for him and many nights dreaming of him. I have feared that one day you would discover my pathway to him, that one day I would lead you straight to him. I have feared Uncle knew many times and know now I was correct with this issue, though it makes little difference now._

_I regret many things of this life; my stupidity at believing in you always; my tolerance of your lies and pig-headed ways; my decision to stay under your rule; and even what I cannot control, being born into this family._

_I do not, however, regret my little breaths of freedom. I wish to take that free air into my lungs more. I regret not staying with him longer. I do not regret falling in love with a forbidden, someone I should not have talked with, let alone bedded. I do not regret any of those nights, not even the last, for I know by doing this I shall see him again._

_I shall find him again. We shall always be together. I will love him always. I will follow him until the end of time. And we shall find each other over and over in whatever life we live, so we may remain together for eternity._

_So, I leave you now, not as a son or an heir or even a boy. I leave you now as a man. And by the time you receive this, I shall be with my Jacob again._

_Artemis Malfoy_

* * *

Draco, sat on an uncomfortable leather chair, also alone and beside the fire, in the dungeons, stared down at the last piece of Artemis Malfoy.

* * *

Thanks for reading again. Notice any parallels? (A hint, the word un/comfortable came up quiteeeeee a lot ;) ) 

Anyway. R&R please. The more people that review, the more I have to answer, so a) the more people that get a mention and b) the more you slave drivers make me type – I'm joking I love you all really.

Right so:

To the reviewers of Chapter 4:

**Hertfelt Death**: Never seen the film so I didn't know, is a well cool word though – teenage side coming through there, lol. Glad you liked the chapter, tell me if you cry at this one. Til next time.

**Imarriedmalfoy**: There we go, new chapter up and running. There is another couple coming up soon, from before these times. But first this mystery needs to be solved.

**Mistress of the flames**: I am, I am keeping it up. I haven't run out of ideas yet. And keep commenting and you'll get a mention every chapter. Come back next time.

**Iridescentcloud**: The next chapter is, I think, going to be with them together most of the time. I think, come back and find out, lol

**Cherishmoiraparamour**: well, I was interested, I like your name loads. Language?(Because that's not embarrassing, cough cough.) We're going for sweet and loveable in those chapters I think.

Aww, I love you guys, u comment like evvvery chapter, you loyal people. Thanks and keep it up. BTW, tell me if I got some emotions stirring with this one, will you.

All will be revealed soon, and then the mystery of …wait for it…L and B will be coming along. (Who can guess both the next names??? If someone gets it right they get the L&B's first chapter dedicated to them.)

Thanks everyone else for reading too. But if you want a mention to, leave a commenttttttttttttt, seriously though, I like to know what people think.

Til next time

Dark raven 4426


	6. Family Tree

Chapter 6

Family Tree

In the Slytherin common room, with the sun outside slowly peeking over the trees, Draco Malfoy still sat staring down at the letter in Hogwarts: A History. He had not slept or even closed the book for the duration of the entire night.

His thoughts whirred around his head, neither stopping nor pausing to allow him the short amount of time he needed to un-jumble them.

_'I should have known this. Father should have told me this when I was a child. Why didn't he tell me this?'_

Family history was very important to the Malfoys. To know ones heritage is to have knowledge. To have knowledge is to have power. To have power is to have fame. To have fame is to have money. Which leads back to power, and the vicious cycle begins once more.

'_No Malfoy should be without the knowledge of their ancestors. Could it be… Where they ashamed of Artemis? Or was it the entire structure of the kingdom? Malfoys are never ashamed. Not of themselves or their forefathers.'_

However, there was something else that was bothering Draco as well, he just could not quite put his finger on it and it was driving him nearer and nearer to panic.

His mind would not shut up. Pictures of Artemis writing to his father in a dank cell of the dungeons – possibly near where he sat now, he shivered – and the different ways he could have committed suicide. What unnerved him more, though, was the fact that one particularly stuck out more like a memory than a figment of an overactive imagination. It was of himself, jumping without a second thought from the cliff top outside the castle.

Even more disturbing than this, were the night images, also seeming more like memories to him. He lay next to someone, covered in sweat and naked, the lower half of his body covered by a thin blanket. Upon looking to his side at the sleeping face next to him, Draco snapped the book shut as if waking from a nightmare and throwing himself forward in the chair. He was way beyond the point of screaming, no sound could escape his throat.

He was panting, his eyes bulging slightly and leaning forward over the book. He shoved at the tome, it thumped onto the floor, making a loud noise. Draco instinctively snapped his head around to the staircase, which lead to the dorms, and silently listened. Even to himself, he was reminded of a deer trapped in muggle headlights.

No sounds floated down from the dormitories, aside from the soft snoring of sleeping people. Having broken out of his stupor, Draco decided he may as well move, people would be coming down soon anyway.

He pushed any thoughts of Artemis and Jacob from his mind.

The fire had long since died out. He could not be bothered, and saw no need to, light it again. It would only be another half hour before the sun had risen completely anyway.

He stood up and made a beeline for the entrance. The statue slid away to the side and allowed him to escape quickly and quietly. He was not out before was allowed but he felt the need to sneak around the castle anyway.

It was a Saturday and he had no classes to attend. He knew he should be going up to the library to study for a potions test that Severus had warned him about early but he knew all the material back to front and he really could not be bothered. Draco sighed.

'_You would have thought with a school this size, someone could always find something interesting to do._'

Draco let his feet lead him along corridor after corridor. He paused when he passed a stairway that lead up to a bridge that crossed over to the owlery tower. He shrugged to himself and moved towards it. He realised with disgust that he was dragging his feet and picked them up hastily, very unlike him and not regal at all.

It only took his five minutes to travel the distance to the owlery. He spotted his eagle owl up near the roof bullying some small school own. He made his way down the stairs to the floor of the tower and snatched a piece of parchment and an everlasting quill from a small table.

Draco hated everlasting quills. They were forever leaking, literally, and it was impossible to keep every word legible.

"Malfoy." The cold greeting made his hand freeze above the paper. _'Shit.'_

"Potter." Draco tried to keep his voice steady, Lord knows he tried, but as he said the name, the image from only a little while ago flashed into his mind. He knew his voice wavered ever so slightly and, by the confused stare the other boy was giving him, deduced that Potter had heard it too. However, they both opted to leave the subject be and both carried on with their writing.

'_How could I not bloody notice him there. He's written loads, he must have been here for a while. Shit. My minds going to the dogs. Anyway. To business. The family tree. Artemis._'

Draco lay the quill on the paper and began to scratch it along the page, leaving an attempt at neat, defined and delicate writing that was his own.

_Dear Father,_

_ All is well at school. There will be no need to ask upon my grades, they are perfect as usual. Severus has been kind as usual and has kept me informed of the outside world. Although I suggest that a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is found, a strong rumour has begun circulating that this one is a vampire. I recommend a full investigation._

_However, I am not writing this to exchange gossip, I have a need for information. When I was younger, you used to tell me of our family history. You made me learn the family tree right back to Great Damian Malfoy. I have come to realise, though, that my knowledge is lacking._

_Great Damian Malfoy was alive five thousand years ago, to the nearest thousand, if memory serves me correctly. I would like to know about the family history before that. I am intrigued to find out about a specific member of the family I found out about in a book I have been reading._

_Therefore, I would like you to send me, as soon as possible, a full family tree, complete to the beginning of Hogwarts._

_I would appreciate it if no questions were asked, call it a class project if you will, something to satisfy my own curiosity._

_Do tell me how mother is doing, though. Severus told me she has become ill with a touch of the flu._

_Your son,_

_Draco Malfoy._

Draco read the letter over three times before nodding, it would have to do, and whistling shrilly to call down the great owl near the roof. He tied the letter to the bird's leg and walked to the window, throwing him off his arm in a flurry of feathers.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the tower, Potter was doing exactly the same thing with a small snowy owl, although slightly more gently, whilst muttering to it and shouting a farewell as she glided away towards the distant hills and low mountains.

"It's just a bird, Potter, it doesn't understand you." _'Why am I starting a conversation again? Idiot.'_

"She knows what I'm saying." The Gryffindor turned away, beginning to pack away his writing things and the spare sheets of parchment that lay on the filthy table. '_Obviously not in the mood to argue, but I won't be ignored.'_

"Turn around, Potter, I don't like to be ignored when I'm talking to someone, even if I don't like them all that much."

"To tell the truth, Malfoy, I really couldn't give a shit."

"That's not very polite."

"Well you and your family would know all about that, wouldn't they?"

"Why you little…"

Draco was across the room with three long strides. It took him less than ten seconds to have the other boy pinned against the stone wall by the collar of his shirt. Potter was slightly shorter than Draco, giving Draco the natural feel of superiority.

"Don't insult my family, Potter. I shan't warm you again." They were so close Draco could feel the Gryffindor's breath of his face. He could see that clear skin just inches away.

Suddenly, he was lying next to him again, naked and sweaty, turning his head slowly to smile adoringly at his lover. This time, however, the – he couldn't describe it any other way, it just had to be – memory carried on. It continued to where he revolved his entire body to face the other male, slinging an arm over the rhythmically moving stomach and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss upon moist lips.

Draco jerked back, releasing Harry and making a run for it.

* * *

The entire day had been a nightmare. Potter had been everywhere. Every corner he walked round, he had had to duck back before he was seen. Every window he happened to glance out of, Potter was there, standing by the lake staring up at the castle or sitting under a tree reading some book.

Draco felt lucky they did not have classes, it was sod's law most of his classes included the Gryffindors. He was dreading dinner because – guess what – Potter would be there!

Twenty minutes before dinner found Draco face down on his bed; kicking and punching his bed; screaming and yelling into his pillow and generally doing frustrated things that one would not usually find a Malfoy doing.

He had been in the sixth year boys' dorm alone and decided to let out his frustrations with a good, old-fashioned tantrum, which was perfectly fine as long as no-one saw him.

He felt his fists were starting to bruise even with the soft covers of the bed and his feet and knees were being rubbed raw, the skin dissolving away. He had tried a couple of times to leave the room, but each time a certain Gryffindor would pop up and he would be reduced back to the groaning, screaming, yelling and shrieking mess, fleeing back to his bed and the safety of the muting spell on his pillow.

Therefore, it is understandable that dear Draco was dreading dinner. There was a ninety-nine point nine percent chance that the Gryffindor would be there. Draco half hoped he would be off on one of his adventures getting killed so he would not have to see him there.

_'Half hope? Why only half hope? No, I completely and entirely, fully wish and hope he is off on an adventure getting his arse whipped.'_

'**No you don't, why would you wish that? He is a human life, after all.'**

_'Yes I do. Then I won't have to see him at dinner, resulting in NEVER having those hallucinations again.'_

'**I thought you convinced yourself they were memories.'**

'_No, they're not memories. Memories are things that happened in the past. That…moment…never happened, therefore it is not a memory. Why the fuck am I talking to myself? No, scratch that…Why the **fuck**__ am I arguing with myself?'_

Draco received no reply from his new friend and so decided it was time to risk dinner and have his hopes of Potter disappearing well and truly shattered.

True to his prediction, Potter was sitting at the Gryffindor table, with his two little friends, at the end. Thankfully it was the end Draco did not have any reason to go near, up next to the staff table. Draco made a point of not looking at anything but his food, Blaise or the interesting patch of fluff that had accumulated on his sleeve.

Before he could even take a bite of his food, though, a screech from above him made the Slytherins around him jump and an envelope dropped into his lap. The writing on the front addressed it to him in neat, looping letters of green whilst the Malfoy family crest, the green and silver snaked pattern around a black 'M', perched atop in the left corner.

Draco delicately slipped a finger under the flap and tore it open, taking care not to slit his skin.

_Dear Draco,_

_As always, it is a pleasure to hear you are well. Your father is not available at present and, as I needed a project to occupy my mind at the moment, I took up your request and found what you are looking for easily in one of the libraries._

_I am glad to say I am well along the road people call recovery and you need not worry your little heart over my health, the Lord knows other, more pressing matters should hold your attention._

_Whether Lucius would want you to have this information is not part of my knowledge but I see no reason as to why not. He was always so eager for you to remember every detail of the family when you were younger, I always wondered why he did not travel back further with you._

_I have attached your request. Use it as you will and I hope you find its use to be compatible to your original request. Stay well, Draco, don't fall too deep, you are still too young for such troubles._

_I worry for you, keep safe._

_Your ever loving mother_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Still folded in the envelope, Draco found a second piece of parchment. He smiled to himself as he slipped the letter back inside, ate a little food – finding he was far too eager to eat, he would sneak down to the kitchens later – and nodded to Blaise. Having done these things, he stood from the table and walked, gracefully, from the hall, ignoring his stomach as it grumbled lowly in protest, so maybe he was a little hungry.

He skirted around the statues in the entrance hall, narrowly missed a suit of armour and his sword and made his way through the twists and turns of the dungeons that lead to the entrance of the Slytherin common room.

Once in his dorm, and after casting privacy charms of all sorts and shutting his curtains with three locking spells, Draco opened the other, thick wedge of parchment his Mother had sent him.

It had been magically copied, much like texts and such that were copied into books over and over. Once unrolled it ran almost the length of his leg. It was detailed. At the bottom he could see his very own name, connected to those of his mother and father. Then there were his Mother's two sisters, and spiralling off from the eldest came a husband and a daughter. These last three were written in red, he assumed it to be because of muggle or mudblood associations. Further off to the left, his Mother's side, were a few Black names, close cousins, before they ran off the page.

He noticed that every so often further up the page, a few lines would be drawn off the page in the same direction and he knew that if he could have seen the whole tree they would have shown the places of inbreeding.

Even as he scanned up the centre he could see that, even before his mother and father, members of the Malfoy and relatives of the Black families had already been married before.

He closed his mind off to the Black side, though. It was not this that interested him. He was interested in his Father's family.

The Malfoy family was famed for having male heirs to carry on the family name and keep the fortune safe and ever growing. Draco, himself, was a perfect example. He followed his Father's side, all written in green, not a single red mark, until he reached the end of his own knowledge of the history, at Great Damian Malfoy.

Draco was surprised to find that he only needed to follow back another thousand years before the writing turned a dark purple, almost black, which symbolised a time of war. He searched around the time of the last king, named Lucian Malfoy, possibly a connection with his father's name – though he doubted it seeing as no-one seemed to like that era.

The last purple name was one, Dominick Malfoy. He was a youngest son to Lucian Malfoy, and he was the one whom married and had sons to keep the line going. He sat staring at the other two names connected to Lucian Malfoy. One travelled off to the side, his elder brother, Bartholomew, whom had no descendants. Another, slid downward, the purple changing to the blood red of deceit swiftly. There, Draco found the evidence. There, Draco found Artemis Malfoy's name.

Reviews CH5

**Bahlovkarizma:**well here's you update, enjoy.

**Scriblerus:**here is more, I hope the editing is better on this one. When I get to chapter 10 I'll go back and check them all again.

**Anything I want: **Remus will definitely be here, Sirius, maybe. I'll think about it. And I haven't thought about the ending yet so…

**Mistress of the flames: **glad to have the emotion. I laughed when I read your review, I just suddenly imagined someone reading my chapter and then literally banging their head on their keyboard. Keep the faith.

**Imarriedmalfoy:**well here you are, I await your review with baited breath. XD Yeah great for Valentines…except I was in my bed…ill! Not fair in anyway – I thought I'd make myself useful and write a chapter.

**Multicolourdeyes:**here you go!

By the way, the competition is still up for dedication. Right these names. Each dot represents a letter.

L……. and B…. 

For anyone who didn't read it, the competition is that the person to get both the names right gets their (them up their – L & B) first chapter dedicated to them. Go for it. I'll be interested to find some new names too.

Hint// Think Shakespeare ;)

P.S the next chapter is already written so it'll be up soon

Love you all and keep those reviews coming 

Dark Raven 4426 


	7. Interlude 2 To Say Goodbye

Interlude 2

To Say Goodbye

His breath came out in pants and puffs as he ran. His lungs were burning and his throat felt like it was on fire. Tears were streaming from his eyes, to dribble down his pale cheeks and pointlessly to the floor as his feet carried him towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

But then, everything was pointless. Life was completely without point. It was pointless to be alive when all you did throughout the days was to sit around waiting to be told off and pushed around. It was pointless to love when it was forbidden…especially when it was forbidden.

It was pointless for him to run to his love in the night, they would get caught eventually and then an end would be given to their pointless lives. There was no point in breeding, it just gave more life to the world, the curse of life, more pointless life.

Artemis lashed out with his coarse sleeve at his face. Tears were pointless, they changed nothing. Showing emotion only showed weakness. She was gone. Her pointless life had come to a pointless end.

But if it was so pointless to love, why was he running to through the dungeon tunnel towards his love? Why was he completely ignoring all the lessons that had been smacked into his head? Why was he blocking out the voices in his head reminding him of all the conclusions he had drawn to this day?

Artemis tried, God knows he tried, but to no avail. He could not halt the hiccupping sob as it rushed up his throat, scalding him as it came. It echoed around him, mocking him, taunting him as a weakness.

The sun had only just begun its sleep and the moon was not yet even bright above the trees. But he was still making his way from the castle. He was still trying to run from his memories. It was dangerous to be coming out at such an early time…but he needed comfort, he needed strong arms, he needed a soft voice to murmur sweet nothings in his ear, he needed someone to calm him. He needed Jacob.

His legs felt as if they would give way any moment and he feared he would collapse and lie forever, broken and bleeding on the stone floor beneath him. His hair was tussled and out of place, if he had been calm he would have been annoyed. His arms were beginning to feel numb as they pumped at his sides in time with his hasty steps. Still he carried on.

The light that lead to a temporary freedom had never felt this far away before. As much as he ran and as hard as he tried, it only seemed to grow further away. A fresh bout of tears flew out behind him, sparkling in the far off light as they fell towards the ground, caught in the flow of gravity and despair.

Artemis whipped at his face again and tripped on a rock that lay before him. He did not get up, it would be pointless anyway. His nightmare was coming true. He did not belong in the castle, but he could not escape to the outside world either, he did not belong there also.

So, Artemis lay there, broken although thankfully not bleeding, frozen within time, awaiting his rescue. His tears crawled down his face, tickling his soft skin, and splattered onto the ground beside him, before slowly creeping off towards the light, searching for the freedom he could not manage to find. His own tears were mocking him.

The moon outside the tunnel was hardly even there, a tiny slice against the ever expanding cosmos. In its own way, it showed its sorrow for the man hidden from its glow. It commanded the stars to glitter down at the world, creating the illusion of its own tears, soaring across the sky, crying out in silence anguish.

Footsteps resounded around the tunnel, approaching the shivering, crying figure. The face was one of worry, a furrowed brow marred the lightly tanned forehead. Emerald gems sparkled even as the light receded behind him, sparks of anxious fret and concern.

Artemis was drifting between the folds of his mind. One second, or what felt like a second, he would be silently floating in clouds of fluffed, soft wisps of an unidentifiable material, not a solid but then not a liquid and then not quite a gas either.

Then another second, he would be wrapped in the eternal flames of earth, screaming out as they licked at his sensitive skin. He could not wake himself from this restless state, only hope and have faith in the outside world.

Just as he was starting to lose all trust in the other world and he began to drown again in his fire swept hell of molten flames, a cool touch breathed across the edge of his consciousness. A calmingly, cold stroke of heaven swept through him and sent the fires of his mind back to a frozen, painless state. Artemis flickered open his defrosted eyes.

The lined on his troubled brow finally smoothed, if only slightly. A smile crept across his lips as he pulled Artemis to his chest, encircling him within strong arms. In return, fingers threaded into his hair and pulled his face up to meet his own. Lips touched. Sweet, tender and loving, filled with an innocence they had not felt together for a long time.

"She's gone."

And so the sobs began again as his lover began murmuring in his ear. Humming old tunes to him, hushing his tearful cries and singing a tranquil, song. Nothing what-so-ever that could be seen as of importance but calming and bringing a rush of memories back to the blonde prince. Mutterings of love and declarations;

"You take my breath away every minute of every hour of every day…"

Reminiscences of secret meeting, waiting for one, single special moment.

"…To watch the sun rise on your face…"

Even philosophical nonsense was added to the tune, as the cries began to die away and another voice added its soft input into the old, personal melody.

"…Time is a wave in constant motion…"

Many hours into the night, after many repetitions of such songs, the two fell silent. The intimate moment was not to be interrupted this night. They would stay, leaning back against the grime covered wall in each others arms.

Artemis, for his part, was not in any way, against allowing his lover the feeling of dominance on this night. He felt completely exposed, his emotions on show to the world. He needed the protection his Jacob could offer.

"What happened?" His voice was soft, hardly there, whispering over his ear from behind.

"He did not mean to…she fell…he reacted…it was…he…she…"

Silence reigned once more over the tunnel, waiting for softly spoken words to return and continue their story. Artemis, determined not to cry once again, snuggled back into the other man's arms.

"It was an accident…Mother…she…surprised Father…he…" He stopped again, considering his words. His sentence was firm, although he who he was trying to convince was anyone's guess. "It was an accident."

Jacob, behind him, nodded silently.

Echoes of dripping water filled the tunnel.

From the whispers and murmurs, two soft voices began to sing once more, melodies of privacy that should never be heard by outsiders' ears.

Meanwhile, the moon outside, who's weeping had been raining above the world, turned its tears of stardust to joy. Flying across the sky, keeping the memory of love alive forever.

* * *

Chapter 6 review replies

Bahlovkarizma – I hope you enjoyed this one too.

Minoki – here is your continue

Imarriedmalfoy – a) here is a bit of emotional insight into the lives of Artemis and Jacob – I was in a lovey dovey mood when I wrote it hence all the imagery b) I'm glad you liked the last chapter c) I enjoy reading your comments d) loads of old men have used that phrase before me, so technically I stole it first and e) (last one) please enter the dedication competition. Bibi

Mistress of the flames – Your next update. Love u and come back soon.

Nymphy fate – Sorry for leaving you on your cliffhanger still. But I wasn't in the mood to write petty fights and stuff so I did an emotionally charged memory thing instead. Hope you like it.

I would also like to thank Westlife and Ronan Keating for the lyrics

**SEX Dedication Competition SEX**

**Guess the names of the next set of past lives. Get both correct and their first chapter will be dedicated to you.**

**Draco's name begins with L and has 7 more letters. (8 in total)  
**

**Harry's name begins with B and has 4 more letters. (5 in total)  
**

**SEX SEX SEX (**I hope that got your attention)

Please take a guess guys.


	8. Visions

A/N: well, i'm not really too bothered about this fic anymore. I just want to finish it now so i can move on. I've grown up since i stared writing it - as you can tell if you've read any of my other stuff. So the chapters are going to be short, possibly disjointed and to the point.

So lets see a little of Harry's perspective as he dives into a new world centred on a different pair of lovers.

* * *

**Visions**

Harry lay back on the fresh grass, a brief sigh of contentment leaving his lips. He had managed to avoid Malfoy the whole day. Not only was it a Saturday, it was a boring Saturday with neither a Quidditch match nor a Hogsmeade visit for entertainment.

After breakfast, Harry had strolled down to Hagrid's cabin, Ron and Hermione in tow – another argument in full swing. However, Hermione had not allowed him much time to chat before she hauled him off back to the library to study. He had been crammed up in a corner pretending to study for many hours, four hours forty seven minutes and three seconds in fact. He was able to convince his friends, however, to break for lunch only with the help of a selection of mouth watering smells wafting up from the kitchens and a few well-chosen words.

Harry had eaten swiftly, escaping to the Quidditch pitch for, what he felt was, a well-earned break. He had thought about rushing back the tower to grab his Firebolt, but doubted he'd actually do any flying and so contented himself with flopping down on the thick, luscious grass and staring up into the sky. He felt little leaps of happiness every time a bird darted across above him and small spurts of joy every time he heard laughter in the distance or the whooshing of someone else taking off on a broom. He loved the freedom that came with the outside, the way the wind constantly whistled and the creatures of the great outdoors were always wild and untameable.

It was with these thoughts in mind that the visions started to come. They were just short flashes at first. Little dashes of silver eyes staring playfully down at him. Flashes of sparkling teeth encased in smiling, perfectly shaped lips complete with ivory skin. But as he lay there into the afternoon, they became longer, lengthening into images that lasted for minutes at a time.

First, the image of him panting and his lungs burning as he ran, one arm slung back as he clutched another hand in his own while his legs pumped. He could hear another set of harsh breathing behind him. Then the image vanished, leaving him panting where he lay on the grass. Then the next vision took hold.

This time, he was sitting on an unevenly shaped bolder, gripping an unknown person to his chest. They were resting between his legs and plastered so close to his body that he couldn't see anything of what they looked like. He heard them sniffle and squeezed them closer to him. Then that too was gone.

The next vision brought a blush to his cheeks and a guilty wave of arousal. His fingers skimmed down perfect ivory skin of another person's abdomen. His mind stuttered when he realised his companion was a male. He gulped mentally when he realised this was the same companion as he had had with him the whole time, the aroma of jasmine was strong in the air and, as he bent to dip his head and lick at this other person's neck, that was definitely what they smelt of.

Harry was annoyed with himself for regretting the moment when this last vision vanished. At the same time his mind was sending out warning signals that this was the time he should go and find Hermione but before he could even move to get up, he was assaulted by another image. Now it was dark and he couldn't see a thing, just feel through this new body that he was temporarily trapped in until he was allowed to knock back into his physical, real body. He felt light fingers brushing on his cheek and the sharp pain of his hair being pulled back to expose his throat, which was promptly latched on to by a slick mouth. The moan that tumbled from his mouth without his permission was not his own, but it wasn't altogether unfamiliar either. Then the image was gone as quickly as it had come and the sun from above him was blinding him.

Then what he innately knew would be the last vision took hold. It was longer than all the others but seemed to be playing on fast forward. He was staring into someone's eyes for what felt like an immensely long time but because of the speed of the vision was only a few seconds. Then he was looking at his face and he was shocked and he was confused. H knew this face. It was different, yes, but it was the same. His lips were perfectly sculpted as if by a Greek God. His skin was as pale as the moonlight that shone down from above them, or that could have been the moonlight itself, he didn't really know; the confusion was muddling his brain. Mercury eyes were glazing over before his eyes. There was also the most similar feature as well. It was exactly the same colour, his hair. The lightest shade of blonde it could possibly be without being white, gleaming out at him, taunting him.

If he could have spoken out load through this borrowed body he would have screamed in anguish, disgust and a list of other things he didn't even know the words for. The vision faded as his lips descended down on those of the Draco Malfoy look-alike and Harry was already up and running to find Hermione like his life depended on it, shaking the last fragments of the image from his head.

* * *

R&R

Dark Raven 4426


	9. Billy and Lysander

A/N: VERY IMPORTANT: Right, this is the last chapter i post unless i get some reviews because i don't see the point incontinuing to write a story i don't really like or think is very good and obviously doesn't have any fans when i could be writing stories i actually like. So review or the story gets discontinued.

So this is a chapter i wrote a while ago, it introduces the next couple and relates to Harry more than Draco. It's only short. Read on then. Un-beta'd

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Billy And Lysander  
**

Lysander laughed. It was a low, husky sound that ran straight down the other man's spine. His laugh had always been a clear bell, resounding whenever amusement was to be found. Often, Lysander just laughed for the hell of it, just to make his 'companion' shiver.

They had known each other since they were children. The two tribes had been friendly at that time. The woodland tribe and the desert tribe had visited each other for trade and shared sacrifices usually many times a week. That was until, their head healers, both the leaders of the two tribes, had a child together. The two tribes separated when this child was born. The poor baby was carted between sand and trees while the two tribes argued over who would bring it up. In the end, the poor child, less than a year old, had been killed. It had been accidentally dropped into a lake after one of the raids. Now the tribes were back at war, both blaming each other for the death of their so called 'saviour.'

Six long years later, the tribes were still at war, but each tribe had one less person to take care of. In the midst of one of the arguments, two boys had been 'kidnapped' – by each other, although no one knew this.

Lysander, smiling to himself at their past, ran his fingers over his lover's hand. The sensation pleased him, he would never feel enough of that warm olive skin to sooth himself. He would never tire of brushing his fingertips over the expanses that were shown to him.

Billy was an enchanting creature. His face was…angular; his nose sharp, his lips solid – and yet managing to be oh so soft – and his cheekbones high and straight. Even his hair seemed to like straight lines. The black strands were jagged, jutting out of his scalp at odd angles and somehow managing to defy gravity and stay there.

But it was his eyes that mesmerised people. Not his flawless, sun kissed skin or his sparkling teeth. His eyes were deeper than Lysander had ever thought possible for any person. Such pain lingered there, locked inside, awaiting the day when it would be set free. The emerald of his iris' glittered in the hazed light of the setting sun, pierced through the dullest fog and sparked in the dark of night when passion overcame them.

Lysander brought his hand to his lover's cheek, caressing it gently enough so as not to fully awaken his lover. Billy lay next to him, covered in their skin blanket, half asleep and dozing off fast once the story had ended.

Lysander smiled again and lay down next to the other man, wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing him possessively. A moan escaped Billy but he knew it was out of comfort and not passion, the man was already asleep.

The stars above them were still glistening, even though sun rise was drawing nearer by the second. He could faintly see the sky lightening on the horizon but he did not care. They had lived in the wilderness together for years now and never before had they bothered to follow Mother Natures laws of time, why should they start now?

A while later, saw the lovers happily asleep in each others arms, completely unaware of their unfortunate surroundings. The Autumn leaves that scattered the floor around them had been disturbed and they were surrounded by invisible wards of death.

When they awoke together, they had no idea they were even in any danger. Neither had the gift of magic and neither knew anything was wrong. So, when poor Billy seemingly fell into the ground, they were both surprised.

Seconds later, Lysander was seized from behind, strong arms wrapped themselves around him, preventing him from breathing, never mind escape or even movement. Billy was screaming as he was grabbed and hauled from the hole he now knew to be in the ground. The two of them were separated and Lysander did not see his dear Billy again. At least not for a long, long time.

Twilight had always been Lysander's favourite time of the twenty-four hours he called a day. He had never been simpleminded or clueless, he just simply liked beauty. Now-a-days, though, twilight was the most painful time. It brought back memories of his past that, although he wished never to forget, were painful all the same.

* * *

R&R

Dark Raven 4426


	10. Return to the Dungeons

A/N: Hi, so here's the next instalment. I'd like to warn you again that updates will either be slow or short but i am determined to finish this story, possibly because it's getting acknowledged again. So please continue and check out my other stories :D

So this is basically the chapter that will start to move things along, the realisation and the denial :p

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Return to the Dungeons  
**

Harry really, really, _really _hated Potions. Especially when the Professor of said subject was a self-serving, devious _bastard _of a man who had registered Harry at the top of his annihilation via malicious means list. Aforementioned malicious means just so happened to be seating him next to one Draco Malfoy, his supposed enemy who should have been able to cause the maximum amount of irritation with the least amount of effort.

However, Harry was one-hundred percent certain that his current situation was torture for a completely different reason. For two reasons in particular in fact. Firstly, his recent visions were torturing him and forcing his to look at Malfoy in an entirely different light, for example the way his skin looked like it glowed even under the little illumination of the dungeons, which in turn caused Harry to remember how the ivory plains glistened when they were covered in a shining layer of sweat.

Secondly, a new voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Hermione had decided that he needed a new moral compass as it had taken to whispering and nattering to him using quotes from old lectures she had given him and he had _apparently _actually been listening to because his brain had filed them away at the back of his mind until they were called upon at a more appropriate time. Evidently now.

'_You're always at each others' throats,' _it would say, making him feel guilty or _'Why can't you be more like Artemis and Jacob?' _which would inevitably remind him fleetingly of his apparitions. And it was because of this little voice that he felt the need to be nicer to Malfoy, for Hermione's sake he kept reminding himself but each time he said it in his mind, the more it sounded like a ridiculous reason and the more he came to begrudgingly accept that he was doing it because he wanted to and it was nothing to do with Hermione's peace making obsession.

"Could you pass the Octopus teeth…please," he ground out, almost choking on his own words. Malfoy almost dropped the lavender encrusted stirring rod into the potion in shock. He stared back at him, completely forgetting to hold his breath against the foul smelling fumes and inhaling them, causing a coughing fit that had Zabini behind them paired with Ron to flap his arms around in an undignified state of panic. This is, until the Professor of Evil swooped down and vanished the thick, purple smoke from the Slytherin's lungs. Zabini received a vicious glare of warning for his trouble. Harry grabbed the ingredient himself, trying desperately to hold his breath as he reached across the other frozen boy and not cause more trouble.

Harry's next disaster struck about ten seconds later when he happened to glance over and see that strands of flaxen hair were falling into his eyes, which resulted in Malfoy flicking his head minutely every few moments in a tantalizing way that should have been illegal. This, you might think, is not a disaster, and you're right, what is a disaster though is when said show almost made Harry chop two of his fingers off. He quickly switched to squeezing the juice from the Eucalyptus fig, at which point Malfoy decided he wanted to start _stroking _the stirring rod as he waited for the required twenty seconds to end. A mixture of pus, fig's blood and the stinking juice they needed splattered haphazardly over his robes, scarcely missing his skin.

Harry's next plan consisted of stealing the easier job from his nemesis. He even added a 'would you mind if' and 'thank you' into the exchange, something that made Malfoy's delicate eyebrows shoot up but he replied in kind, shuffling around him to pick up the knife they were sharing while Harry took the rod, pointedly ignoring the brush of luxuriously soft fingertips as they brushed hands at the exchange. He shivered and begged that Malfoy hadn't noticed whilst cursing those visions.

Hermione had said it was possible they were special moments in a past life that had been ingrained into his soul because they were so important to him. She said she had once had an experience like that, although she wouldn't tell him what about unless he did the same, and of course Harry couldn't let Hermione find out what they were about. So, next he had asked her if it was possible for a person to look exactly the same from one life to another, to which she had replied that it was uncommon but not unheard of and that the reason was unknown. Although she had pondered on whether it was something to do with mutual similarities between the lifestyles, and then twittered on merrily about possible hypotheses, which was when Harry promptly tuned out.

Harry's plan was failing miserably. Malfoy managed to distract him even when he was chopping useless stuff he was sure he would never use after he graduated. Harry's eyes were glued to the way his wrist shifted fluently with the movements of the knife as if he were dancing with it and the way his fingers curled around the handle in an intoxicating way that should in no way been alluring but somehow was. And Harry found himself looking down at his own hand, slowly turning over the putrid liquid in the cauldron, and feeling disappointed and forlorn. Even if one day he did except the fact that he had some sort of weird, corrupt attraction to Malfoy, of all people, that he entirely blamed on his obviously sexually deprived - why else would they choose Malfoy? - past selves, he would have no chance of ever having said desire returned because of his shaggy looks, clumsy demeanour, unrefined behaviour and…he glanced back down at his hand dejectedly…_stumpy hands!_

"Pass the figs, Malfoy." He said, unaware that he was releasing some of his depression into his voice.

"Here." Malfoy turned back to his work, contemplating something, before abruptly swivelling back. "Can you meet me after dinner. There's something I'd like to discuss with you." Harry was so surprised he only had time to nod dumbly before Snape was sneering orders for packing the class away and he had a sample tube thrust into his fingers then Malfoy fluttered away towards the storeroom, arms full of unused ingredients. And then he was alone in the classroom, watching Snape stalking towards his motionless form with the usual smirk that signalled impending doom on his face.

* * *

Review if you please, noting that this is actually longer than the last chapter.

Yours

Dark Raven 4426


End file.
